"'Ow should Mr. Meldrum," enquired a husky voice from the sideboard, "know you ever 'ad a fust 'usband?"
Mrs. Grice, having now recovered her mental poise, countered with a lightning thrust.
"Knowing you as he does, Grice," she retorted, "is it likely Mr. Meldrum would dream of regardin' you as my first choice?"
Philip broke in pacifically:—
"Let us say your first husband, Mrs. Grice."
"Well, sir," began Mrs. Grice readily, "'e did it by word of mouth. Leastways, not precisely. Partly by deputy, if you take my meaning, sir."
Philip made an apologetic gesture.
"Not absolutely," he said.
"Well, sir," continued Mrs. Grice, beginning to enjoy herself, "we'd bin walkin' out for some time, and it didn't look like ever comin' to anything. So my brother George, 'e said it was time the matter was took up proper. George was a brewer's drayman. There was eleven of us altogether!—"
"Not quite so much of it!" advised Mr. Grice, who had left the sideboard to join the symposium. "Get back to your first."